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He's just so expressive and responsive. He acts like my touch is a gift, not an obligation. He has this look of surprise on his face when I put my hands on him, and I love that look. I love surprising him. I love caressing him. I love pleasing him. Kisses can wait a bit longer. For now, he's been so good to me and helped me so much that I want to do this to please him.
Well, if I'm being honest with myself, it's not just for him. It's for me, too.
I love that feeling of being in control, of being the one responsible for his pleasure. I know I could stop right now and he wouldn't pressure me to continue. He'd suffer with an aching erection and focus totally on me, because that's who Jerrok is as a person. He's all rough and grumbly on the outside, and an absolute marshmallow on the inside.
And marshmallows deserve to be nibbled on, darn it.
So I lean in, pressing my lips to the head of his cock and wetting my mouth with his pre-cum. He sucks in a startled breath that makes me want to do more, and I dart my tongue out, licking him. I swirl the tip around the head of his cock, learning his piercings even as I pleasure him. I'm not sure why he's got four studded like a compass, but I find it fascinating and sexy, just like the rest of him. I grip his shaft and press my lips down his length with hot, open-mouthed little kisses. He's velvety soft over steel, hard and hot and yet so, so pettable. It's a shame that the mesakkah are so enthusiastically into plas-film for everything and—
Shit.
I look up at him, horrified. "Oh god. Should I be using plas-film?"
"What?" His voice is hoarse. Jerrok opens his eyes to give me a dazed look. "For what?"
"On your cock." I give his length a little squeeze with my fingers. "What about germs—"
"Kef the germs," he mutters, shaking his head. "Don't stop. You're perfect…"
Preening with pride, I lower my head and flick my tongue at the piercing nestled on the underside of his cock, against his sac. He lets out a grunt—or more like a “guh”—as I do. I let myself experiment with touching him, tracing each ridge with fascination, caressing the head, and learning his spur. It feels different than I thought it would, more like the cartilage of an ear, but slightly harder. He doesn't seem to flip out when I touch it, so it must not be similar to a clit.
The head of him is too big to fit comfortably in my mouth, especially with the piercings, so I focus on licking and teasing, then sucking at the tip as I work his shaft with my grip. He's very quiet as I lavish his cock with attention, and after a few moments, I notice that it's a little too quiet. I want to know that he likes what I'm doing. I want to hear his breath stutter.
I want to hear him call me his good girl.
I look up at him, lapping at the tip of his cock. His face is rigid with stress, his mouth pressed into a thin line. His hands are fists at his side, and he holds himself so, so tightly.
My poor Jerrok.
"Why won't you look at me?" I ask softly.
He heaves a labored breath and then, ever so slowly, moves his head down to watch me. His neck is corded and taut, as if it's taking all his willpower not to move. As our eyes meet, I flick my tongue over the head of his cock again, as if I'm licking an ice cream. His nostrils flare.
"Should I stop?" I ask. I've been enjoying myself, and in more ways than one. My panties are soaked and I'm squirming even as I sit at the edge of the bed and pleasure him. I want more than anything to keep going…but I also need to make sure that this is all right with him. His lack of response is starting to kill my enjoyment, though. One-sided pleasure is no pleasure at all.
"I just…" His throat works as he swallows. There's such intense hunger in his eyes that it takes my breath away. "I don't want to scare you."
"Scare me?" I lick him again, teasing deliberately, and his eyes flare with need. Oh, I like that response. It makes me clench my thighs tighter as my core pulses.
"Because…I need you so much." His hands flex again, and one of them creaks.
For some reason, that small noise fills me with all kinds of endearment for him. Is he holding back because he's afraid of scaring me with his need? That's so sweet…and completely understandable. I've been so afraid of everything for the last while, and now I finally feel like I'm becoming myself again. He doesn't know that, though, because I haven't said it to him. So he's being cautious and judging from his clenched fists, is waiting for me to panic so he can withdraw.
